


What is Heard (Cannot be Unheard)

by Arteraeth



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Genre: Eavesdropping, F/F, Gen, Glass Symbolism, I love kyle and he deserves the world, Kyle POV, Late Night Conversations, Pining, Post-Canon, Some Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Spoilers, Takes place after the Battle of Brightmoon, Threats of Violence, catradora
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 16:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16663927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arteraeth/pseuds/Arteraeth
Summary: Kyle cannot sleep.  Catra can't, either.





	What is Heard (Cannot be Unheard)

**Author's Note:**

> I! Love! Kyle! I wanted to write a bit from his perspective and examine him a bit more as a character, but it kinda turned into Catradora... lol. Also, be warned that there is some slightly graphic descriptions in here; I wanted to make the battle a bit more intense and with some more consequences.   
> Also, this takes place after the Battle of Brightmoon, so there are some pretty obvious spoilers in here.   
> She-Ra and the characters in it do not belong to me!

A broken wrist. Two large bruises, a burn from a stray energy blast. A twisted ankle. Wounded pride.  
Kyle sat in the barracks, fresh out of battle by a few hours. He still wore his chest piece, but the rest had been removed for cleaning and bandaging his wounds. He looked around at his surrounding bunks, soldiers bruised and blackened, his own age! He considered himself lucky. Nothing too bad. So many of his friends were nursing concussions, broken legs and arms, third-degree burns. Kyle didn’t want to think about the others.   
God, what was the point anymore? They tried so hard, but the Princesses had bested them anyways, not losing a single man. Even with all the advantages on their side, the Horde was beaten. Kyle held his wrist with his good hand, remembering how the vine had come out of nowhere, shooting up from the water, he had tried to block it from hitting his friends but it had thrust his hand backwards with a crack and he could only hunch forwards in pain and he heard their choking, choking and begging for air-  
Kyle didn’t want to think about it anymore.  
He stood, looking out over the sea of hurt soldiers sleeping. Everyone else had fallen asleep as soon as they got back and were treated, but Kyle had found himself fitfully awake. Thoughts rushed through his head, but with noone to talk to, he felt like he was going to explode. Shaking it off, Kyle stood from his bunk, walking through the dark room into the hall, dimly lit with red. He winced, his twisted ankle mild, but still protesting. He had wrapped it in a brace for now, but it still hurt to put pressure on it. He traced his hand along the smooth wall of the hall, limping to a room further down.   
He entered the room, switching on the lights as he passed through the door. As the lights blinked on, his eyes adjusted quickly, revealing Catra crouching on the counter.   
“Ah- Ah! Commanding Officer Catra!” Kyle burst out, whipping into a straight posture. His ankle protested, and he immediately winced and shifted his weight.  
“At ease, Kyle.” Catra narrowed her eyes at him.  
She still wore her combat uniform, he noticed. It looked as if she hadn’t bathed yet, still dirty from the battle behind them. For a second, they stared at one another awkwardly, but Kyle’s resolve soon waned, and he awkwardly tottered over to the water station. He picked up his favorite black glass cup out of his locker (a small luxury from graduating to a senior cadet), shivering while feeling Catra’s eyes boring into his back. Kyle turned around cautiously. “Officer Catra…” He began, but trailed off.  
“Yes?” She bit her lip, furrowing her brow.  
Kyle could tell she wanted him to leave.  
“Ah, nothing. Make sure you get your wounds treated soon, haha, ok, seeya!” Kyle darted out of the room, awkwardly putting his weight on one leg. He gripped his glass tightly with his good hand, trying not to slip. He ducked into the hall, pausing once around the corner and slumping on the wall. His water had spilled on the floor.   
Wow, was that awkward. He didn’t have the courage to ask her why she was in the Cadet barracks, being a Force Captain and all. Kyle simply decided to accept it as it was, choosing not to think about it. That seemed to be a lot of what he was doing nowadays.  
“Geez Adora….”  
Kyle perked up, ears pricking to hear where the voice was coming from. Was that….?  
“You really always have to be the hero. Gotta jump in and take the spotlight, as always.”  
That was Catra’s voice! Kyle mentally scolded himself for eavesdropping, but his curiosity got the best of him. He listened closer, jumping when Catra’s scathing voice burst out.  
“I’m doing better without you! I can do it alone. I’m not just some stupid sidekick for you, geez. Look, I led a whole attack against Brightmoon, I destroyed the whole of the Whispering Woods, I fought you off and won! I’m doing just fine! Gah… But it’s never enough for you, huh?” She paused. Kyle held his breath, heart beating quick.   
Suddenly, Catra’s voice burst out, her voice cracking. “Nothing was ever good enough for you! I tried my damnedest to help you, to protect you! And you go and wash me away with your stupid rainbow wave of friendship, or something dumb like that. God, Adora…”  
Catra trailed off, but took a shaky breath. Kyle didn’t breathe.  
“I hate you so much…. Why can’t I just stop loving you?” Catra’s voice broke, and she took a shaky breath.  
Kyle gasped out a breath, his mind racing. Catra was in love with Adora? Their enemy? The cause of all his wounds and all these deaths? How?  
Kyle was jolted out of his thoughts by the scraping of claws clicking on the floor, walking towards the door. He scrambled up, but his ankle failed him, and he fell quickly back to the cold floor. Kyle turned around, scrambling backwards, as Catra emerged from the doorway. Her eyes stared at him, pupils black scratches. Her eyes shone in the dark, devoid of any emotion. She was breathing hard, tear tracks staining her cheeks.  
The two shared into each other’s eyes, tension crackling between the two.   
“You…” Catra breathed out.  
Kyle gulped, breathing fast. Oh God.  
“Never, never, tell anyone this happened. I will kill you.” Catra smiled, one of her teeth biting her lip enough to draw blood. Her eyes shone, claws glinted from her hands. She twisted her hand into a fist. Kyle briefly wondered if that hurt or not.  
“Got it?” Catra smiled, but there was no mercy behind her words. Blood trickling down her chin. Kyle gulped, sweating.  
“Yes- Yes Ma’am! I’m sorry!”   
Kyle scrambled up, limping as fast as possible back down the hall, Mind racing but no coherent thoughts available to him. He scooted back into his barracks and threw himself down into his bed.   
He realized he had left his cup of water on the hallway floor.

 

The next morning, Kyle awoke with a start, sitting up after a fitful sleep. He breathed hard, pushing himself up against the wall. Looking around, most of his fellow soldiers were still asleep, training having been cancelled for their unit that day due to heavy injury. He blinked the remaining sleep out of his eyes.   
Oh my God.  
He had completely forgotten about Catra last night. Oh geez, he had really messed up, but he had eavesdropped. And my god, Catra was in love with Adora. How long had that been going on? Did Adora know? Did anyone else?  
Kyle slowed down. Maybe it was just a bad dream. It didn’t seem very real, of course. Why would Catra be hanging out in the cadet locker room in the middle of the night, up on a counter? Kyle got up, slowly walking down the hall to the locker room. He yawned, and stepped right into a puddle of water, completely getting his sock wet. He groaned, continuing into the room, and stopped dead.   
On the counter were two mugs.   
Kyle walked closer. One was a deep, maroon red, chipped around the handle by years of use, faint scratches of claws around the sides, and completely empty. The other was a thick, clear glass, tinted grey. It was spotless, filled with cold tea, with a tarnished silver spoon sticking out of it. Kyle blinked, and turned, almost immediately putting his wet-socked foot down on broken glass. He gulped.  
The floor was littered with shards of black glass.


End file.
